


These Boots Weren't Made For Walking

by kinetikatrue



Category: due South
Genre: Community: ds_flashfiction, M/M, ds_flashfiction Holiday Party 2006
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-31
Updated: 2014-03-31
Packaged: 2018-01-17 16:02:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1393759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinetikatrue/pseuds/kinetikatrue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt 66. F/K “These boots are killing me!”</p>
            </blockquote>





	These Boots Weren't Made For Walking

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Stormymouse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stormymouse/gifts).



The audience stood and applauded when Fraser finished, which Ray guessed meant that they’d thought it was a pretty swell graduation speech. Or maybe just that they would’ve applauded anything anybody with a record like Frase’s said. Really it didn’t matter which it was, though; after that, they’d just had to process the cadets and then it was all over except the drinking. And Ray had been planning on enjoying doing exactly that. Except when he’d met Fraser at the entrance to the auditorium and seen how he looked, well, there’d been an impromptu change of plan.

Which was why they were cozying up in a janitor’s closet and Ray was whispering, “You can do it, Frase. You can say ‘these boots are killing me.’ I swear on the hat I won’t tell any of your brothers in red you admitted to not being perfect.” Fraser had insisted on standing for the entire thing just like all the cadets had to – which was a dumbass thing to do in Ray’s opinion, since probably none of them had had a chance to kill their knees and get themselves hurt in other wild and unusual ways by jumping out of airplanes and off of buildings and shit. And now he looked half like he wanted to growl at Ray for teasing him and half like he just needed a hug.

Of course, he just whispered back, “Yes, Ray, I could – if that were the truth. I’ll admit they’re a trifle uncomfortable, but that is entirely my own fault; I should have taken the time to break them in before today. Proper preparation – “

“Prevents poor performance. Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever. It’s not your fault Dief’s grand-pups chewed up the old ones. Or that you haven’t had a reason to wear these since you got them.” Ray paused to glare at him. “It is your fault, however, that you won’t let me run interference and get us out of here so I can get you out of them.”

And Fraser glared right back, “It would be inexcusably rude of me to not make an appearance at a party where I am a guest of honor.”

Ray sighed, “Yeah, ok, but just an appearance. Then we’re going back to the hotel and getting comfortable. In private.”

And Fraser didn’t even blush. Shot back, polite as you please, “Just as you say, Ray,” and opened the door to let them out of the closet.

***

Eyes followed them as they made their circuit of the room. Fraser still did the serge proud, that was for sure, but then Ray hadn’t ever expected anything less. Fraser’d looked good in just about anything since the day Ray met him. And if Ray’s favorite look for Fraser was naked, well, that was between him and Fraser. Same as the softening of Fraser’s gut and the scars he’d racked up in the line of duty were.

Then Ray was making their excuses, shepherding Fraser out the door, out to the cab to the hotel. The rest of the world could have their chance at The Distinguished Mountie (and it was amazing what a touch of grey did for him), Inspector Fraser, some other time. The man, Benton Fraser, his Ben, he was Ray’s for forever. And Ray planned to make good use of the time he had.


End file.
